Shakespeare's Rendition
by Nuit Songeur
Summary: Why is eight year-old Seto reading Shakespeare? And why is it that this girl, Kisara, won't leave him alone? It's not like she even understands that pigtails are solely for girls, not guys. One-shot.


**A/N:** My twentieth story here! Yay! -throws confetti- So, done while procastinating in Geometry homework.

**Disclamers:** YuGiOh is note mine. Neither is _The Tragedy of Julis Caesar_.

**Warnings:** Shakespeare references. Possible typos. As Per Usual.

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The small girl laughed, still pulling at the younger boy's hair. Though, she wasn't necessarily trying to be mean, she just liked his hair. It was nice and long and pretty… and very shiny as well. She just wanted to play with it, brush it, and perhaps put a few ribbons in it as well…

"Hey!" the boy exclaimed, losing his balance and making his arms flail out wildly. "Cut it out!" Surprised, the girl let go of his black hair, causing him to fall flat on his face. She gave a small chuckle.

"I'm sorry," she said apologetically, holding out a hand for him. "I didn't mean to make you fall." The boy looked up at her and transferred his gaze to the outstretched hand, blinking. After a moment of hesitation, he gratefully took her hand and she helped the boy steady himself on his feet.

"Thanks," he said when both feet were planted firmly on the ground. He gave the strange girl a grin and she smiled back.

"You must be new here, right?" she asked. He nodded, his smile disappearing and his eyes got that sad look in them. She noticed that happened a lot to the new kids here of the orphanage. She supposed they all missed their parents. But, she wouldn't know the feeling- her parents had died when she was just an infant.

Still, she hated that sad and distant look this new boy had. It didn't suit too well with his bright, gray eyes.

"My name's Kisara," she said with a soft smile, changing the subject quickly. "What's yours?"

"Mokuba. Though, my brother calls me Mokie. You can too if you want." Kisara tilted her head slightly out of curiosity.

"You have a brother?" she asked. He nodded, a new energy brightening his features.

"Yeah! Seto's the best brother ever!"

"I don't have any brothers or sisters. What's it like?"

"Well, he's always there for me, sticking up to the bullies for me. And he likes doing things for me. It's the best! I can show him to you, if you want." Kisara continued to smile at him.

"I think I would like that. I've never met a big brother before," she mused as Mokie started to pull at her hand, dragging her back toward orphanage building. Noticing this, she went along with him, making it easier for him to drag.

"Seto doesn't like the outside that much," Mokie explained as they walked inside and began weaving through the various rooms. "He's more into books and that kind of thing."

"I see," Kisara said absently, not really understanding why anyone would prefer books to the swing set. Seriously, books were boring. Especially the ones without pictures. Kisara glanced up at one of the portraits that depicted one of the orphanage's founders and frowned at it. For someone that seemingly wanted to help homeless children, they all seemed rather mean and stiffy with their wrinkled faces and graying tufts of hair.

It didn't take long for Mokie to locate the small library of the orphanage. And, once inside, Kisara could immediately spot this Seto person; he was the only kid in there. At the sight of Seto's hunched shoulders, Kisara felt slightly intimidated as Mokie eagerly dragged her to him. Seto glanced up at his younger brother with a bored tolerance. Kisara blinked. They were brothers? They barely looked anything alike! Seto had brown hair and blue eyes much lighter than Mokie's in comparison.

"Hi Mokie," Seto said in an annoying, monotonous voice.

"Seto, this is Kisara. She's my new friend!"

"That's great," Seto dismissed, his eyes going back down to his book. Not even sparing a glance at her.

"I met her on the playground!" Mokie continued, still sounding unbelievably enthusiastic.

"Uh-huh," came the blunt reply.

Kisara was offended! How could this… this _jerk_ be the best brother of all time? He wouldn't even look up at his own brother. Poor Mokuba…

Though, to the contrary, Mokie didn't seem even minutely offended. Maybe he saw something in his lifeless brother that she did not.

"I think you should say hi to her," Mokie continued, spirits remaining carefree.

"Hi." Still, Seto did not look up.

"You didn't even look at her-"

"Mokuba," Seto sighed, reluctantly looking up at his younger brother. "I'm kind of busy here- reading. Why don't you take your new friend and go play-"

Seto stopped once his eyes finally fell on Kisara. He paused for a moment, hesitating. And then, he spoke again, disregarding his previous statement.

"You have white hair," he noted in a harsh tone, still with that monotonous voice. Kisara shrugged. A lot of people seemed amazed by her hair color. She didn't find what was so special about it; she'd been born with it and had it all her life. Mokie elbowed his brother lightly.

"It's not nice to make fun of the way people look," he whispered. Seto looked back at him.

"I wasn't making fun, I was just stating a fact," Seto shot back, though not unkindly. "Run along now and go play on the slide."

"They don't have a slide here," Kisara deadpanned, speaking up for the first time. Seto rolled his eyes at her.

"Whatever, just leave me alone." Mokuba appeared to be disappointed but looked as though he were going to oblige anyways.

"Okay big brother, we're going now. Come on Kisara," he mumbled. Kisara stared at Seto for a moment, thinking, and then turned back to Mokuba.

"You go on ahead," she urged with a smile. "I'll be right there." Confused, Mokie just nodded and left the library. She turned to look at this so-called Best Big Brother, frowning. But, once again, he was focused entirely on his book.

Kisara went to sit beside him and peered over his shoulders at the book. She positioned herself close to him which made him whip his head to her out of annoyance.

"Can I help you?" he snapped. She shrugged, keeping an innocent smile on her face.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked casually, looking back at the book.

"_Julius Caesar_," he said, scooting his chair away from her. Persistently, she scooted hers toward him, determined to keep him talking to her.

"Why are you reading that? Aren't you like six or something? Shouldn't you be reading something like _Winnie the Pooh_? It has a lot more pictures than that."

"I'm eight. _Winnie the Pooh_ is for four year-olds. And I'm reading this because it's a story about backstabbing friends. Now, please, go away." He tried his utmost best to drill his attention to Shakespeare's words but the meanings slipped from his mind as the annoying girl continued to stare him. He feigned a page turn, signaling he was more interested in a dead playwright than her.

It didn't beset her though.

"You must be unhappy," she deduced. "Why else would you want to spend time with books instead of being outside with your brother."

"It's a play, not a book." With a wave of her hand, she signaled that the difference between the two held no important significance.

"He's still your brother." Seto grit his teeth. Who was she to reprimand him for being neglecting to his brother? Mokuba could just get along fine for a few hours without him.

"And I've still told you to go away several times. Everything doesn't work the way you want it sometimes."

"Sometimes," she agreed, sighing. "Well, I guess I can't make you play with your brother."

"I'm glad you understand," he said shortly. Page turn.

Kisara stood up and started walking toward the exit when her eye caught something from Seto's book. Something that made her realize that this book or play _did_ have a few pictures.

"Oh my Gosh!" she exclaimed suddenly, yanking the book out from under his nose. Angrily, he jumped to his feet as well.

"What's the big deal?" he asked her. "Give me my book back." She didn't, just yet. Instead she pointed to the picture she had seen.

"_What's the big deal?_ This is the big deal! Look at this! They're stabbing him!" Seto sighed irritably, as if he were dealing with a seriously immature child. Which was, in part, true.

"I told you it was about backstabbing friends!"

"Yeah but I didn't think you actually meant-"

"Look, obviously your intellect level can't grasp the fact that, in Shakespeare's rendition of the Caesar empire, Brutus kills his best friend, Caesar, for the benefit of Rome and then later ended up committing suicide anyway. So, just give it back to me!" Kisara tilted her head and arched an eyebrow quizzically.

"Who's Brutus?" she asked.

"Exactly," Seto hissed, grabbing the book back.

"Well excuse me," she huffed, crossing her arms. "No wonder you're so unhappy all the time. Reading books about people stabbing each other."

"It's a _play_," Seto stressed, returning back to his seat at the table. Kisara rolled her eyes at him.

"If you say so," she said, making her way out of the library- all the while bouncing on her heels. With a sigh, she removed Seto and his grotesque play out of her mind and began thinking of ways she could play with Mokie.

"I wonder if Mokie will still let me play with his hair. I could put pigtails in it; he would look good with pigtails." And with that, she left the library.

Her musings weren't particularly quiet. In fact, Seto's attention had transferred yet again from his play to the annoying girl's back, hearing every word she had just said to herself. In a flash, he slammed the book shut and hurried after her.

"_No one_ is putting Mokie's hair in pigtails!"

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Just a little cute thing I felt like doing, as a break from what I've been working on recently. I know it's not my best but, hope you enjoyed!

Review, please!

**_-Nuit Songeur_**


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